Christmas Magic
by AVampireBride
Summary: Rose has questions nobody seems to have answers too. Will she find the answers she has been looking for during the Christmas season? ONE SHOT


Author's Note: This was written as a Christmas gift for Lauren. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except those I introduced myself. The rights belong to James Cameron and the White Star Line, etc.

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Bowing for yet another large audience, Rose Dawson waved before leaving the stage with the other members. She was a minor role in her second play of the year, 1912. The others around her were laughing and having a good time. Their hearts were full of joy from the success of the play and the festive season. Christmas was a mere week away.

Rose wasn't feeling joyful or happy, nor did she want to celebrate. Her friend Ellen asked her to come to a bar down the street to "drink cheap beer and have a real party." Silently Rose shook her head no as her mind flooded with memories. She told Ellen to have fun without her.

"I'm beginning to get a headache."

"Oh, Rose. Another?" wondered Ellen.

"Yes. The others are leaving. You can still catch them."

"Are you positive you don't want me to stay?"

"Go enjoy yourself, Ellen," Rose insisted. Ellen glanced at Rose again as she pulled her coat over her dress, heading out into the frigid New York air.

Now Rose had a chance to collapse on the cot in the dressing room she shared with Ellen. Her head throbbed. Months ago, when this all began, she hardly remembered anything. Now, slowly, everything from those few short days were coming back. Every time a new memory came to her Rose's head throbbed with pain and her hands turned to ice. All of the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but one major slice was still missing.

"Who are you and why don't I know your name? There's a body but where the face should be it is blank. Why can't I see your face?" Rose questioned herself. She dried the wetness from her eyes with her white cotton handkerchief. Sighing, she rose to her feet slowly as not to get dizzy, another side effect. Rose determined to go back to her tiny room, drink a brandy, and go to sleep. Sleep was becoming a commodity, a thing of the past. Rose felt like she was falling deeper and deeper into the black hole of despair. She wasn't sure she could find her way out again.

At home Rose threw herself down on the single bed she shared with her nightly thoughts. Not bothering to change into a nightgown, the seventeen year old hauled the dingy coverlets over her head, enveloping her body and mind in darkness at last. The young woman nestled into her cave for the night, crying until she fell asleep sometime in the earliest hours of morning.

"Help me, please," Rose pleaded before she drifted off into slumber. "Help me."

Rose woke to the bright morning son blinding her. It poured in through the depressingly gray drapes she cursed at herself for not closing the night before, welcoming her to a new day. The sun was drawing Rose out of bed where she wanted to spend the entire day.

"Ugh," she groaned, remembering the night before. The memories flooded her mind once more.

---------------------------------- Flash back ---------------------------------

Rose walked gracefully through the dining room and through the doors the waiters held open for her. Her emerald green eyes glowed with wonder. What did he have in store? When she reached the foot of the stairs known as the Grand Staircase, Rose paused momentarily. This was it. Something, what she didn't know, was about to take place. Gathering her thoughts in her mind, Rose drew a deep breath. She gathered her skirts into her hand and placed the other on the carved wooden stair railing. As she began to ascend the stairs one at a time she felt the smoothness of the wood under her gloved hand. The ship was sending its magic and energy through the railing into Rose. Several steps from the top landing the young man there turned around. His blond hair fell into his face. But where eyes, nose, and a mouth should have been, only a blurred image remained. Rose heard the words, "So, do you want to go to a real party?"

------------------------------------- End Flash back- --------------------------------------

Rose lifted an edge of the coverlet to peek at the mantle clock that had become her bedside clock. Nearly seven thirty. Mrs. Hughes didn't like people to be late for breakfast. Rose was renting a room in the upstairs of a widow's home. Another young girl of twenty was renting the room next to Rose's. Rose drug herself out of bed, flinging off yesterday's gown and coat. She donned a fresh dress, though it really was wore out. She never bothered with a corset any more, she didn't see the need. Rose hurried down the stairs and was in her chair at precisely 7:30 AM.

Ellen came calling early in the afternoon. Rose was wandering around Mrs. Hughes' home, wallowing in self-despair. She was in the study when the older woman showed Ellen in.

"You have a visitor, Miss Rose," said Widow Hughes.

Rose was fixated on the long shelves packed with old novels and science books. She traced the book spines with her finger one at time. She didn't look up when the two ladies came in nor did she when the widow left. Ellen was left with Rose.

"Rose?" Ellen began. Her young friend didn't answer. She merely went on tracing the spines of the books, silently reading the titles to herself. When finally she did speak, it was so sudden it startled Ellen.

"I used to love reading. I read all day, book after book. They were the only place to escape after my father's death. And now, it feels like some part of me is missing. I'm not sure what and it frightens me. I need help, Ellen."

Ellen sat on the study's lounge, listening to this in complete silence. She bit her lip like she always did when she was thinking about things deeply. After several moments she spoke. "I know you don't have any family, Rose, and what's left of my own won't speak to me anyhow. Christmas is in a week or so; nobody likes to spend it alone. What do you say to taking a vacation? Maybe go to California?"

The teenager was drifting off into the world she always seemed to go to. "Rose," Ellen said again.

Rose snapped back to reality. "Huh?"

"Do you want to go to California with me for Christmas?"

"What about your family?"

"Not a single one of them talks to me. They won't notice I've gone."

Something about California appealed to Rose. Something was calling her there. She had to urge to go horseback riding in the surf and ride the roller costars by the pier. Before she realized what she was saying, Rose blurted out "What do you think about Santa Monica? Can we go there?"

Ellen took this sudden out burst as Rose's way of saying yes.

Two days later, four days before Christmas, Rose and Ellen were on their way to the train station. Ellen took it upon herself to organize everything to keep the pressure off Rose's shoulders. The girl already had enough trouble and problems for one year. Ellen was careful around Rose. She watched what she said because although she wanted Rose to remember everything, she didn't want to trigger another headache. Rose was so close to remembering the final piece to the puzzle. Maybe going to Santa Monica was just the key to unlocking her memory.

Upon arriving at the train station, Ellen and Rose tipped their driver as he retrieved their luggage for them. Rose went forth to purchase the tickets, surprising Ellen. Maybe Rose was starting to get into this whole vacation idea. Rose approached the ticket booth.

"Two bound for Santa Monica please."

"One way?"

"Yes," Rose nodded.

"Here you are, miss," said the ticket master.

Rose's lips formed a half smile as the ticket s were placed in her hand. Something seemed so final about it but she wasn't depressed at the thought. Maybe this was a whole new beginning, a whole new adventure.

Rose turned, only to bump into a young man wearing a long trench coat and a hat that covered his face.

"Excuse me," they both said at the same time, not paying attention to the other. Rose was about to continue on her way when she noticed a brown leather portfolio on the ground. She picked it up to give back to the man but he was already gone.

"Rose! Over here!" called Ellen, standing next to their luggage on the platform. Rose tucked the portfolio away in a side pocket in her suitcase, not giving it a second thought.

Santa Monica was a far cry from the streets of New York. Here the wind didn't whip about threatening to take a limb. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful California day when Rose and Ellen arrived the day before Christmas. The air here was warm and inviting. Within a minute of stepping off the train, Ellen spoke. "If heaven does exist, this must be the closest thing to it."

Rose looked up at the woman who, these last few months, had become her best friend. After a few moments Ellen gazed into Rose's fierce emerald eyes.

"There is a heaven, Ellen. Hundreds of innocent souls are there now because of a stupid, stupid man. Mr. Astor, Mr. Andrews, the Captain, Tommy, Fabrizio, and all the others. There's a heaven."

"Rose, you're going to remember. You're going to remember what it is you've been trying too. California is going to lend you some of its magic and it will help you remember. I know it."

"I hope so, Ellen. The only thing I want for Christmas this year is to remember the final piece."

The two friends found their luggage and hailed a taxi. On the other end of the platform, a young man wearing a cap noticed his prized possession was missing.

After checking into the hotel, Ellen and Rose decided to go sight seeing. Late afternoon on the day before Christmas left the streets of town empty and free to any takers. Rose and Ellen were those takers. Instead of hailing a cab, the pair wandered around on their own, taking in the sights and sounds of this new city. They encountered the beach and docks just as the sun began to set into the ocean. The colors of the sunset spread across the sky like paint on a canvas. The pinks, oranges, and purples all blended together beautifully. Rose and Ellen selected a bench to sit on along the boardwalk next to the beach.

"Look at that! It makes you want to sing, doesn't it?" exclaimed Ellen in reference to the sunset.

"It reminds me of something… almost like a dream," whispered Rose. Not realizing what Ellen was doing, Rose was startled when her friend leaped up on onto the seat of the bench. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Come on, Rose, sing with me! We are free to do whatever we want now and I want to sing!"

"Have you gone stark raving mad, Ellen?"

Ellen merely laughed gaily before beginning her singing debut. "Come Josephine in my flying maaachine! Going up she goes, up she goes!"

Rose's heart skipped a beat. That song, the sunset… it was all so fresh in her memory.

Ellen grabbed her friend's hand. "Come on, Lazy Daisy! There's so much to see. Let's go have that artist draw our portraits."

Further down the boardwalk on another bench a young man as sketching a pair of seagulls perched on a wooden post. He was the only other person out at this time. Ellen pulled Rose after her as she headed in his direction.

"Excuse me, sir. My friend and I were wondering if you could draw our portrait?"

Without glancing up, the artist replied, "Sure. Just figure out a pose and I'll be right with you."

"Here is fine. We'll stand here with the sunset at our backs," decided Ellen.

The artist put the finishing touches on his seagull drawing. "Okay, ladies. I only have my charcoals. I lost my portfolio so they'll have to do."

As these words were being exchanged Rose was gazing out over the ocean. Suddenly out of nowhere, she said, "Is it a brown leather one?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"I picked one up at the train station in New York. Its back at our hotel."

Finally the man looked up at the two women he was about to draw. He took in the sight. Two beautiful women stood before him, one clearly older then the other. She was a looker but the younger of the two was drop dead gorgeous. Rose's line of sight traced the waves to the beach, up the wooden planks, to the young man on the bench. His golden hair fell into his lovely blue eyes. Beautiful eyes.

Dozens of images flew through Rose's head. Water, a Renault, a formal dining dress, a fireplace, sketches… and eyes. The eyes she had been searching for since April. The missing piece of the puzzle had finally fallen into place and she was just realizing it. It all seemed to happen to easily. All those months of searching and wondering and the moment she nearly stopped thinking about it BAM! There he was. The body finally had a face.

"Jack?! Jack Dawson?" Rose questioned, not really believing her eyes. Was she dreaming? Was this some cruel joke God was playing on her?

Ellen looked from Rose to Jack back to Rose, bewildered as to what was going on. "Why does he have the same last name as you, Rose? Do you know him?"

Jack concentrated on the girl before him. Her friend had confirmed it. It really was Rose. He didn't want to believe it at first because he had been searching for this woman for so long but here she was, standing before him, also questioning if it he really was alive.

"Rose? Is it really you?"

Slowly Rose nodded her head. This was real! Jack was here, in California, in front of her. At last her long miserable search came to an end in the place they talked about. The world around her faded away. California was no longer there; Ellen disappeared. Jack and she were the only two people in the world.

Jack stood, rising ever so slowly. His drawings and supplies fell off his lap, landing on the boardwalk below their feet. He opened his arms, wanting to grab her and never let go, but instead let her do things her way, so he wouldn't startle her. She moved into them as quickly as she could, in fact surprising him but in a pleasant way. Rose felt her lover's arms enclose around her, catching her like the safety net she lost all those months ago. Ellen was right. California had lent some of its magic to her and brought them back together.

Jack and Rose stood still, frozen in time, taking each other in. Silence was the only thing present besides themselves before Jack spoke, "I can't believe it is really you. I've been searching for so long for you. Have you been in New York the entire time?"

The two of them sat together on the bench. Ellen moved away, running onto the sand to enjoy what was left of the sunlight. "Yes. I've been doing plays and trying to get by. My friend Ellen and I decided to take a vacation for Christmas as a present to ourselves. You were on the train, weren't you? You were the one I bumped into at the station in New York."

"Oh Rose. My Rose. There's something you need to know, something I didn't tell you before that I should have. I love you, Rose. More then anything or anyone in the world."

"You have no idea how long I have waited to hear those words. I love you, too, Jack. More than life."

"I checked the survivor list for Rose DeWitt-Bukater and when I saw your name wasn't there I was terrified. But then I saw Rose Dawson and knew it just had to be you. I knew you were alive and that I had to find you. I searched New York this entire time but I never found anything so I thought maybe you came to Santa Monica like we talked about."

"How…" Rose was going to ask Jack how he survived after she let him go in those icy waters but she decided she didn't want to know how he suffered and the pain he must have gone through. She knew any pain she suffered, Jack's was twice as bad. So Rose changed her topic before she said anything else. "How have you been living?"

"I rented a room at a boarding house and worked at the pier. It was hard, really tough, but it was worth it. Look where it brought me."

"Where are you staying while you are here?" wondered Rose.

"With us, of course," determined Ellen as she came back from the beach. "You will, won't you? We can get another room at the hotel."

Rose watched Jack's face for an answer. When a huge smile crossed it she knew she had her answer. "Of course I will. Where Rose goes, I go."

Jack pressed his lips to Rose's in an ardent kiss, the kiss both of them had remembered and been waiting for for so many months. The two of them spent all of Christmas Eve together as well as Christmas. Jack showed the girls the many places he had told Rose about and together they discovered new things about Santa Monica. The magic had brought them together and kept them that way. Jack and Rose moved to California and did all the things they planned on doing. Rose became a famous moving picture actress, one of the greatest of her time. Jack became "Mr. Big Artiste" and made a prosperous living off his paintings and sketches. The two of them married on Christmas Eve, exactly one year after being reunited and told everyone about their Christmas magic.


End file.
